


Don't Blame Me

by andiebeaword



Series: Spencer Reid Mature One Shots [3]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Bar, F/M, Old Flames, Past Lovers, Vegas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:27:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24565366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andiebeaword/pseuds/andiebeaword
Summary: Spencer sees a face he didn't think he was ever going to see again.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Spencer Reid Mature One Shots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2115516
Kudos: 18





	Don't Blame Me

Spencer Reid finds himself alone on a Saturday night while out in Vegas visiting his mother. He ends up in the hotel bar of all places. Today had been a not-so-good day for his mother. She barely recognized him, and talked with him like he was 18 years old again. He knew these days happen, that they come and go, but tonight, he gave in when he sat down at the bar, whiskey shot in hand. 

He debated on whether to just down it and head up to his room, but he decided against it; the feeling of being alone right now was too much. He slowly grazed his eyes around the bar. Most of them were either couples or groups. He knew he wasn't suave enough to just walk up to a girl and strike a conversation purely out of nothing. No, that wasn't him. He preferred to have some background established, someone who befriended him first. That's why one night stands weren't high on his list. But, tonight, he thought his brain would at least try to make an exception. 

It wouldn't. By this time, he had drank two more beers and was just about to down one last shot. "Excuse me, Doctor, is this seat taken?" 

Spencer froze. A shiver shot up his spine. It couldn't be. Nope. 

He averted his gaze upon a translucent figure, one all dolled up in black skater dress, with a head full of waves and a face with barely-there makeup. Her piercing gray eyes stopped on him. "C'mon, Spencer, how you been?" The woman says as she slides herself onto the empty bar stool next to Spencer. He still hasn't found his words. 

"F-f-fine, Delilah, and y-you?" He stuttered. He wanted to bolt right then and there. He hadn't seen or heard from Delilah in over five years. They met while his team were solving a string of murders in her hometown. She had been back home over her spring break week, and bumped into him while at her favorite coffee shop. She was instantly smitten with Spencer, but soon discovered that he wasn't exactly looking for a relationship; long-distance, or otherwise. Delilah proposed a relationship of sorts to him. As long as both were single at the time, they would agree to hook up whenever their paths crossed again. 

Not long after that, Delilah discovered that she got accepted into a master's program at an arts college in Las Vegas. The second she told Spencer, he smiled. Soon, their visits were more frequent. Reid would decide to visit his mother a little more often in hopes of crossing her path. Then, about three years ago, Delilah met someone. They were engaged within six months. His job required that she move with him to California. While there, she bumped into Spencer once. Only then, did he notice her ring. 

That was the first time they didn't sleep together. Instead, though, they talked. Spencer learned tidbits and quirks about her that stirred strange feelings within him. Delilah was laughing amusingly at herself after talking to Spencer about her new guy. She purposely never spoke his name, and Spencer decided he couldn't be bothered to ask. 

They had left each other that day, knowing that what they had was over. 

Until....now. 

"Just fine, Spencer?" Delilah raised a suspicious eyebrow towards the doctor. 

"Yeah, uhh, how's your husband?" he squeaked. Already the one question asked that Delilah had been afraid of since she first noticed Spencer's presence in the bar. 

She raised her left hand to call the bartender over for ten shots. This raised an eyebrow from Spencer. Without meaning to, he let his gaze fall on her hand. No ring. Fuck. 

"Been divorced over a year now," she sighed, not looking up at Spencer. "He and I soon discovered that we didn't really like each other or get along all that well outside the bedroom." 

Again, Spencer was rendered speechless. He wanted to say something but didn't really know what. He couldn't say he knew her any better, their relationship was pretty much strictly sex as well. Though, he felt they had a connection when together. Something he realized he never felt before or since. 

"What are all those shots for?" he decided to ask. Delilah paid the bartender, then waived over Spencer's shoulder with her eyes, there being an empty booth back in the corner. She proceeds to get up from her stool, walking over and taking a seat in the booth, glancing back to see that Spencer had followed her and sat across. 

"These are for us, silly," she laughed. "I saw that you started without me, so the first four are for me, then you can have one," she grinned. 

"Us?" He questioned. Confusion written all over his pretty boy features. She glanced up at him as she finished her second shot. 

"Sorry, Spencer, I didn't ask...you're not seeing someone, are you?" she looked hurt. 

"Uhh, no, but-" he was cut off. 

"As I said, they are for us. I don't know about you, but I don't fancy myself being alone right now, you?" she pleaded. 

"No, I don't," he agreed. 

"Remember what you told me"

"Then, it's settled. Now, how about we play some poker?" she asks, pulling a deck of cards out of her purse. 

"You remember, I'm from here, right?" he asks. He could have sworn at some point, after she told him she was working on her masters in Vegas, that he mentioned his upbringing and the fact that he was pretty much banned from playing anywhere due to his card counting ability, alone. 

"Yeah, so? I'm not a sore loser, are you?" she says with a straight face. She didn't know it, yet, but he kinda was. He hated to lose. Always would suspect his opponent had somehow cheated whenever he had been beat. 

"I wouldn't know, I never lose," he spoke, cockily, much to Delilah's delight. 

"Oh, honey, you know, you really shouldn't tease me, now," she hummed. She decided to keep it simple with five card draw. After a few hands, Spencer assumed that she must not know he could count cards. For if she had, he swore she would have called him on it by now. 

After an hour or so, all the shots were downed, and Spencer was beating Delilah miserably. He still couldn't believe she hadn't caught on yet. Just as he figured she was going to bid him goodnight and leave, she surprised him. 

"You have a room here, yes?" 

Spencer gulped. "Um, yeah, I was visiting my mom, earlier. I fly back home tomorrow." 

"Want to continue this game upstairs, then, Dr. Reid?" she smirked. 

"Yeah, let's go." 

\-------♥-------- 

Another couple hours had gone, and they moved on from five card draw to Texas Hold'em. The effects of the shots were slowly wearing off, and both were afraid, they were each going to lose their nerve. Delilah was the first to speak up. 

"Spencer, would you be game to change it up a bit?" she said, bashfully. 

"Change it up, how?" he asked. Delilah almost forgot how clueless the doctor truly was. 

"Strip poker, Spencer," she spoke bluntly. 

His eyes went wide. Quickly, the color darkened and a smirk danced its way across his face. "One condition. After each hand, regardless of who wins, we each share something about ourselves. I want to get to know you better," he said. 

She felt the heat, alright. "Deal. But, can I have some of your layers, please? Right now, all I have on are a dress, shoes and undergarments." she pleaded. Spencer choked a cough. 

"Why should I?" he teased. Oh, he was sooo going to get it later. 

"Because, Spencer, in case you forgot, I am quite the fan of foreplay. I want to drag this out as much as possible. If you can't help me out with that, then I suggest you come over here and put that mouth to better use." 

In that moment, Spencer was shell shocked. He remembered the difference between nights with foreplay and ones where the idea had been completely abandoned. The nights with ended much better for both of them. He bit his lip hard, and shrugged off his suit jacket and cardigan and threw them at her. 

"Thank you, now I have only one less than you," she responded. "Deal." 

With each hand, and each article of clothing lost between them, secrets spilled and the tension thickened. By now, Spencer was down to his shirt and boxers. Delilah down to her bra and panties. 

Spencer had learned that Delilah had a crush on him after their first night together. She also told him that she not only graduated with her master's, she now freelances, so that she can find work no matter her living situation. She also spilled that she stopped paying rent of her studio and was living at the hotel a few blocks down until she could figure how her next move. 

Delilah discovered that Spencer, too, had a girlfriend after she married. He spared her further details. She also was told that he had been to prison, almost lost his job at the BAU, taught lectures and classes on Criminology in his spare time. 

Glances and once-overs were also shared between the two. Neither one had ever taken the chance to revel in the other before. Their get togethers were usually hasty and sloppy back then. Now, Delilah was hoping that Spencer would lose, so that she could offer to take his shirt off for him. She was suddenly painstakingly aware at just how much of him she missed. Learning about his life, his ups and downs, it flipped a switch inside her. 

Spencer was equally struggling with the new revelation. He always knew he was insanely attracted to her. That much he made obvious during their first night. But he never spoke during sex, never taking the time to notice or appreciate her beauty before. Now, he was finding it hard, for lack of a better word, to maintain his composure. Sitting across from him, Delilah was bare aside from her undergarments. He let his eyes wander over her body. She had tattoos. None of which he had seen or even noticed before. 

"How long have you had all those tattoos" he randomly asked. 

"Oh, I didn't have my first one done until after my divorce was finalized," she retorted. 

"Spare me your freakin' dirty looks"

Spencer then began to graze over her once more. She saw the brightness within him fade. He was lusting, she was sure of it. 

"One more hand, Spencer, think you can manage?" 

"Dealing now," he smirked. He knew this was going to be the last hand. It had to be. Regardless of who lost what, the only solution lied in the bedroom at this point. 

Sure enough, much to Spencer's dismay, Delilah had won. And it wasn't because Spencer had let her. He was gobsmacked. How did she win? He asked himself over and over. 

"I never lose," he muttered under his breath. Soon enough, Delilah had abandoned her chair and shimmied on over to Spencer. She straddled him on his chair, moving her hands swiftly to his shirt, unbuttoning it smoothly. Once she was done, she shrugged it off him and whipped it around her, poking her arms out the arm holes, leaving it unbuttoned over her frame. 

"Why are you wearing my shirt?" he questioned. 

Delilah turned her head ever so slightly at Spencer, inching closer and closer. Then, a devious thought crosses her mind and lips. 

"You want to see all my tattoos, now?"

"I'd thought you'd never ask." 

"Shut up and put your money where your mouth is"


End file.
